Author's Note: This turned into quite a long one, even though I at first struggled with inspiration. I've added in some Minerva friendship, because everything is made better with a dash of McGonagall!

Dumbledore/Filch

Argus Filch tried not to cower as he sat before the desk of the great Albus Dumbledore. He had never been particularly outspoken, but a side effect of being around the latter wizard was that he seemed all control of his verbal abilities and resort to unintelligent babbling; fortunately, this was not one of those times, with Argus instead falling into a deafening silence. Those deep, sparkly blue eyes stared at him, their gaze seeming to encase all of him in something unfamiliar and frightening, though not all together unpleasant.

"You lied to me," Albus said, calmly but with a small hint of coldness.

Argus felt a jolt in his stomach.

"How long have you known?" he asked quietly.

"About a month," Albus replied, "A few others had noted it too. We felt it was only fair to inform you."

A cringe worked its way through all of Argus' body. He hated the slight disappointment in his employer's voice; of course, he expected it, when people found out (maybe that was why he was disposed to be inherently cold to people), but for some reason it really hurt coming from this source.

"I'm sorry, sir," Argus whispered, "I really needed this job and I didn't think you'd hire me if you knew that I couldn't-"

His voice faltered.

"I'm sorry," he continued, "I'll go and pack my things."

"You will do nothing of the sort!" Albus exclaimed, "You have a job here, Mr Filch, and I'd like you to continue doing it."

When Argus looked into Albus' eyes, he saw something new, something kind. His respect for the man rose, though the jolting in his abdomen did not desist.

"Thank you, sir," he said, standing up to leave "I won't let you down."

Albus watched him leave, a strange kind of affection in his gaze. He was quick to shake it out as Minerva McGonagall came into the office.

"You told him then?" she said.

"I told him that we knew," Albus nodded.

Minerva raised an eyebrow.

"And about you?" she asked.

Albus sighed, running two fingers across his temple.

"No."

"You know that he feels the same way?" Minerva said, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder, "I've seen him in staff meetings; he doesn't stop staring at you."

"That's usually because I'm always talking," Albus countered.

"I think you should tell him," Minerva said softly.

Albus shook his head; his infatuation with the new caretaker would pass. It had to.

"He's a Squib, Minerva," the headmaster said, a hard edge in his voice, "Society is going to be cruel enough to him without me forcing him to identify with another oppressed minority."

Minerva's eyes were full of concern as she said, with a sigh, "sometimes I really dislike society."

Albus gave a small chuckle, though there was no mirth in it.

"Me too."